


Dreaming Ben Solo

by ElegyGoldsmith



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Begging, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Canon Compliant, Complete, Dubcon Cuddling, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Frottage, Hand Jobs, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Mistaken Identity, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey is Not a Palpatine, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Sweet, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), We all need a hug, ben solo's hands, not a total HEA but on the road to it, what happens on ahch-to stays on ahch-to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegyGoldsmith/pseuds/ElegyGoldsmith
Summary: Kylo Ren awakens to find his enemy sleeping in his arms.The scavenger.Rey.Or, how a midnight encounter offers Ben Solo the beginning of a way back, and Rey the beginning of a way forward — together.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 171
Kudos: 507





	1. Kylo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucia aka LP Artworks](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lucia+aka+LP+Artworks).



> _N.B. To my beloved readers, I'm working on Craving Kylo Chapter 13, but this is a li'l something I had in the can, so to speak 😉_
> 
> If you know me, you know I'm a HUGE fan of [Lucia aka LP_Artworks](https://twitter.com/LP_artworks), one of the sweetest and most talented artists out there. When her amazing Force bond pics resurfaced in my feed a while back, I had some FEELS 🥵
> 
> And thus begun the fluffiest, smuttiest story-building convo as we batted ideas back and forth across the globe -- and OOF do we all need some fluffy smut right now. I'm dropping chapters here, but I can't encourage you enough to check out [Lucia's Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts), where she's going to be posting more art based on this story!! 💞
> 
> HUGE thanks to [Michelle](https://twitter.com/VeazieMichelle) for beta-reading this!! She's a rising star who's soon to drop an amazing story herself, and I am _so excited_ for y'all to read it!
> 
> **Mses LP_Artworks & Goldsmith, assisted by Ms Michelle, are proud to present the following for your enjoyment** 🦋
> 
> **Gird your hearts and have the cold shower on stand-by!**
> 
>   
> 

The twinge of warning is what wakes him, drawing him up through the veils of sleep like he’s resurfacing. He’s been broken and put back together so many times that his body’s thousand aches are a familiar cacophony — but this heat is something new, scorching the left side of his body like fire.

Is it the Anakin in him that makes him jerk awake, the memory of lava claiming him inch by torturous inch? 

But this warmth is gentle. Soft, even. It doesn’t drown but merely nudges against him, comfortably settled in the crook between his far-flung arm and the rest of his body.

The breath catches in his throat as he finds her. The scavenger. The girl he’s hunted for so long — and she’s right here with him.

Not with him. _Beside_ him. Hell, if he really admits it, she’s in his arms.

 _Rey_.

She’s sleeping so peacefully that even the fierce drumbeat of his heart doesn’t disturb her. Her hair tumbles across his shoulder in glossy waves, a half-topknot sweeping it out of her tanned face, and his skin warms in counterpoint to her quiet snores.

Of course she’s not _really_ here in his rack on the _Finalizer_. She’s with Skywalker, wherever he’s exiled himself. 

Even the thought of his would-be killer makes his body tense like a coiled wire — but he starts again as he finds her fingers splayed against his chest.

She’s holding him like he’s a _pillow_ , for kriff’s sake, her curves molded against the hard planes of his abs and hip in a mindless embrace. She’s seemed so vital, so _real_ every time the bond between them opened, nothing else in the universe mattering but her.

Never once has he thought it could be like this.

Suddenly he’s conscious of his own nakedness, the recycled air whispering over his bared skin. As is his habit he’s sleeping only in his boxer briefs, and the bedding is tangled uselessly about his shins. Rey’s body is covering him more than the scant — if decidedly well-placed — fabric.

It’s ridiculous. He’s _Kylo Ren_ , feared leader of the Knights of Ren, right hand and protege of Supreme Leader Snoke. He’s never fled from a fight. He dethroned his father. He fears nothing.

So why is he quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm at the touch of a girl any number of galaxies away?

He’s never seen women as anything noteworthy. That’s of the few things Luke’s pathetic, doomed Jedi and Master Snoke’s First Order have in common. Emotional attachments bring nothing but disarray, so over the years it’s been a simple enough matter to ignore everyone equally.

Until now, with his mortal enemy nestled against him, her sleep undisturbed by his very presence.

It’s thoroughly discomfiting that she’s more clothed than he is. A narrow band of fabric encircles her torso, preserving her modesty, and her usual leggings cover her from the swell of her hips to just below her knee. Narrow bands of wrapped cloth cover her arms from wrist to mid-bicep — yet other than that she’s in the same state of undress that he is, her elegant shoulders and the hourglass of her waist revealed before his gaze.

He inhales sharply as her fingers tighten against his scar. The one _she_ gave him, the one that will forever remind him of that night in the forest. But she’s only dreaming, her body moving as though piloted by a careless puppeteer.

Rey noses into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, a moan passing her parted lips in a soft _unnh_ — and just as he thinks things can’t get any more peculiar she throws one leg over his thigh, hooking herself around him and wriggling closer.

She should be utterly at his mercy. He may not be able to use the Force through this link, but if they can touch like this, then surely he can wrap his fingers around her throat and clench tight, choking the life from her body…

Even as the impulse crosses his mind he violently dismisses it, banishing the thought to the darkest recesses of his imagination. He’s not like his murderous uncle, one to skulk in the shadows and strike with a coward’s blade.

More than that, he _couldn’t_ reach out and touch Rey, even if he wanted to. His body rebels his every command; he wants to run away, to fling himself out of bed and feel the smooth, cold floor beneath his soles, stirring him to full wakefulness and slamming the bond shut. Instead he only clutches limply at the sheets, thin fabric knotting between his fingers as she mumbles wordlessly beside him, her thigh twitching higher against his.

He hisses through clenched teeth as she presses against him _there_ , and he realizes with no small measure of self-loathing that he’s already rousing . Her warmth calls to him, the soft undulations of her hips stirring him in ways he’s never felt before. Not _with_ someone, certainly.

It’s a shameful, primal urge, one that makes his cheeks burn as he tries to shove it away with the rest of his unbidden thoughts. Surely she’d hate him, call him a murderous snake if she was awake and saw his body hungering for her like this, no better than his own uncle — but none of that matters right now. She’s simultaneously relaxed and clinging to him, like she’s caught in a storm and he’s the driftwood that’ll bear her away to safety.

She certainly smells like the ocean. Only too late does he realize he’s sniffed her hair, inhaling slowly to let the intermingled aromas of brine and woodsmoke fill his nose. Her scent is mouthwatering, like sun and surf, like waves against rocks.

Maybe she’s the wave and he’s the timeworn stone tonight. Or maybe someone else is there with her, and she’s simply rolled the wrong way in her sleep, mistaking him for another.

Anger mingles with the fear, restoring a semblance of life to his paralyzed limbs.

Of course. That must be it.

The traitorous stormtrooper, perhaps. Or the Resistance pilot, Dameron. Maybe it’s another man — or a woman.

It doesn’t matter; his jealous blood’s already begun to sing at the thought, nearly enough to revitalize him. He’s still trembling like he hasn’t since the night he brought that hut down on his own head, not knowing whether he’d survive — but he’ll escape this hellish _thing_ shackling them together.

Her body tightens against his again, curling about him like a living tendril, and she sighs throatily.

“ _Ben_...”

The nape of his neck prickles at the sound, and the anger rising within him falters, fracturing like a glacier confronted by sunlight.

Surely he misheard her. Surely it was just her lips tripping against each other as she breathed, or his imagination, or—

“Ben,” she whispers again.

He freezes as though stunned, but this time there’s no mistaking — and his breath kriffing _stops_ as she nuzzles into him, caressing his shoulder with her cheek, the tip of her nose tickling his neck.

“Ben, please…”

Ben Solo. _That’s_ who she wants. 

His heart feels like it’s rending itself apart with every beat, overjoyed and devastated all at once.

And gods, he _feels_ like Ben Solo again, bumbling and uncertain as she squeezes her thighs about his. The hot, damp place where they meet smolders against him like a humid ember.

He doesn’t realize what she’s doing at first, but his body responds eagerly, the hardening shame in his boxer briefs throbbing for her.

For _her_. The scavenger. The girl who called him a monster.

What she’s doing to him now is far more monstrous, and he forgets how to breathe as she surges against him, her hand skimming higher to his neck. She doesn’t notice him stiffening as she traces the length of his scar; moments later her fingers are twining in his hair. It feels so good that he forgets himself, a rumble of pleasure burring through his chest even as a bead of sweat trickles down his temple.

He bites his lower lip to stifle the sound, but it’s too late. Rey’s eyes are still closed, her neat brows not knitted in her usual scowl for once, but relaxed and open as she turns her face up to his.

“Hold me,” she whispers, the syllables fuzzy with sleep.

She’s so close, her tiny body not hurtling toward him like a Force-imbued javelin but begging for him like an ebb tide.

No, not for _him_. Not Kylo Ren. 

For Ben Solo.

But why couldn’t he be Ben Solo again, just for tonight?

It’s a poisonous thought, one that takes root as soon as it enters his mind. He glances at the door to his quarters, but it’s still shut, just as he left it. No faceless crimson Praetorian guards come marching through at Master Snoke’s behest, vibro-arbir blades drawn to gut him at their master’s command.

He’s still mercifully alone.

He could — _could_ — give in to this twisted longing. If he wanted to.

Then, before he can make the decision, she makes it for him.

That blissful tightness in his hair slips away. In the next moment her fingers are locked around his wrist, a living manacle as she pulls his lost arm around her waist so that he’s cradling her body. Her fingers slip through his as she blindly lays his hand against the soft hollow inside her hip, just above the waistband of her leggings.

Her flesh is livid as ignited kyber beneath his fingertips, and something tugs deep in his gut. 

He’s never touched a girl before.

Rey sighs as she settles back against him, and her hips nudge at his thigh again as she turns her face up to his. He can feel his heartbeat echoing in his lips as he stares down at her perfect mouth.

He _could_ … He’s seen it, but he’s never… 

Does she actually _want_ …?

Her thigh finds his rigid length and he swallows a moan as she presses again, just enough to make wretched longing snarl deep within him.

Just one damn kiss. Then he’ll slam this stupid bond shut, purge himself of this sickness, and never think of it again. This closeness is agonizing enough on its own.

Rey must know what he’s doing even without opening her eyes, because she tilts her head back as he brings his face down. Then her lips are against his, soft and yielding and scorching like embers as he brushes them with his own.

Rey moans into him, and her fingers tighten on his body, but it’s not to push him away. She plunges her hand into his hair — and it’s his turn to groan as she crushes him closer, claiming him in a passionate kiss.

“I want you,” she murmurs into him.

The words set every nerve in his body alight.

“Ben…”

“Yeah, Rey?” he hears himself saying, his own voice thick and growling compared to her bell-clear one.

The tiny woman’s eyes stutter open — and as she stares up at him, he doesn’t need the Force bond to know that she’s finally and truly awake.


	2. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo is a tall, dreamy drink of water, and Rey is THIRSTY 💦
> 
> Lucia aka LP Artworks (the creator of the amazing painting that inspired this story) is an awesome human bean, and you should follow her on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/LP_artworks) Also check her out on [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts) because she's going to be posting some art based on this story, and OH MY HEART 💞
> 
>   
>    
> 

Rey stares up at his beautiful, scarred face, hope and lust warring for her attention like discordant wind chimes.

_ Ben Solo _ .

She knows it’s a dream even as he gazes back at her, wide-eyed, his irises not black with anger but honey-brown and perplexed amidst the gloom.

This must be one of those prophetic dreams Luke spoke of, strange imaginings conjured up from sleeping so close to the vergence. It looks like they’re in her hut on Ahch-To, but she can’t spare attention for anything but  _ him _ .

Other nights have dragged her places she didn’t want to go. Back in time. Back to Jakku. Screaming up at the sky, begging for a shuttle that would never return.

“Ben?” she whispers, hardly daring to hope. He’s so close to her that there can be no mistaking, their faces mere inches apart. “Ben Solo?”

His dark hair stirs as he nods wordlessly. He’s so different from arrogant Kylo Ren, his features no longer a stony mask but open and vulnerable. His lips tremble with each indrawn breath as he watches her.

They’re wrapped up in each other already, his sweet taste lingering on her skin, and a stone plummets in her gut.

Oh kriff — they’ve been  _ kissing _ , and somehow she missed that part of the dream.

Heat rushes through her body, and her belly tightens. His heartbeat thuds against her bent arm like a spanner striking solid earth, and she barely bites back a yip as something unyielding digs into her crooked thigh.

His eyes flare in time with the sharp throb, and she must be dreaming of their connection, too, because an echo of his pleasure shivers through her mind. 

Rey’s stomach flips with excitement. It really  _ is _ Ben Solo — and he’s all hers. Even if only until the dream shatters.

She tightens her thighs, and rapture shudders through both of their bodies as she pushes herself into his leg, rolling her hips against him. She knows the basics, of course. It’s not like anyone could grow up around Niima Outpost without hearing those barbaric noises shattering the nights, or seeing silhouettes playing over illuminated tent walls too thin to deter even the most casual gaze.

That was one of the main reasons she’d moved out to the fallen walker. Not that anyone would risk attacking her and incur Unkar’s wrath — assuming her debts to him in the process — but the grunts and cries that rang through the nighted station were yet another reminder of how alone she was.

But all that’s another world, another lifetime ago. This is the first time in forever that her dreams have brought her something beautiful, and she doesn’t intend to waste it.

“Kiss me,” she tells him, her voice quiet but firm.

He leans close again, but one of her hands is already tangled in his hair — and she pulls him to her so eagerly that their mouths clash with bruising force. He tries to mumble something that sounds like the word  _ sorry _ , but she’s too busy drinking him in.

She’s never wanted someone like this before. Every square inch of her body burns for Ben, but he touches her gently, like he’s afraid she’ll break.

“Don’t you like me?” Rey mutters into his gyrfalcon-dark hair as he turns aside to nuzzle her neck, his touch barely whispering against her skin.

His eyes are wide with hurt as he pulls back. “Of course I do. I just…”

Ben’s cheeks color pink with humiliation as he falters, and she clamps her lips into a bloodless line. She’s so used to seeing this same face raging with fury; this boyish uncertainty is…

Well, if she’s honest with herself, it’s dead sexy.

“Have you ever been with a woman?”

His eyes don’t drift from hers as he twitches his head. But his fingertips dig into the soft valley of her side, like he’s worried she’ll withdraw.

She shifts her bent leg, grinding deliberately along that throbbing length in his boxers. Even though his molten gaze is still startled he instinctively flexes against her, and a gasp pops past his full lips.

Her body thrills at the sound. The parts of her that she’s spent her entire life trying to ignore are refusing to be hidden any longer, muscles deep in her core tightening of their own volition like she's a human bowcaster.

Rey draws him back to her, until she can taste his shallow breaths. He’s ready for her, and as she kisses him he feels like electricity bound in human form, a starfallen angel that’s all hers.

She teases him, gently sucking his bottom lip until he sighs, and she explores his mouth with her tongue, probing and stroking him as another low hum vibrates through his chest. His sharp inhalation as she fists his hair tighter sends another ecstatic swell through her body.

He wants her. Despite his innocence, he’s hungry as she is.

Ben moans in protest as she traces a line of slow, wet kisses from his lips to the angular jut of his jaw, and by the time she reaches the hollow of his throat he’s shivering. She lets her hand trace a path down the opposite side of his neck to his shoulder, lightly pressing to keep him against her.

He throws his head back, groaning, as she runs her fingers over the ranging expanse of his chest. Deep down she’d always thought he wore that cape to appear more imposing, but clearly he doesn’t need it.

Ben Solo is  _ massive _ .

It’s intoxicating to be this close to him, his aroma filling her nose as his skin heats hers. He writhes a little as she prints another languid kiss on his collarbone, wrapping her arm around him and skimming her palm around the fall of his side.

As he lowers his chin she’s there again, reclaiming his mouth and levering herself up off her other arm. It’s been folded up between them until now, and the muscles prickle in protest as she pushes herself up enough to free her trapped limb.

Ben’s grip tightens around her waist.

“I’m not leaving you,” she whispers into his cheek as their kiss breaks, and she leans into him, trusting him with her weight as she cups his jaw with her liberated right hand.

She feels stronger now, more powerful with both arms free. She can claim him boldly — and she does, letting herself slither up onto him enough to pin him down.

He twitches against her thigh, insistent even as a soft whimper escapes him. He’s so bloody  _ shy _ , it’s making her drunk, ravenous, parched … and he’s the only thing that can quench her madness.

Rey catches his lower lip between her teeth, sucking as his panting breaths skirt over her skin. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing as she tightens her jaw, but then she’s biting him so sharply that he cries out.

Her channel clenches at the beautifully agonized sound. As she releases him his eyes are twin pools of turmoil, hunger and fear flickering in their depths.

Has she gone too far? 

Fear reasserts itself through the haze of need — but then it’s her turn to gasp as he slides his free hand along the outside of her thigh in a tender caress.

Ben glances down, and she follows his gaze. His elegant fingers cage her leg, stroking almost up to the curve of her arse before receding to catch her knee.

She hardly dares to breathe as he slowly manipulates her, guiding her thigh up against him and dragging against his…

She can hardly even bear to think the taboo words.

His erection. His  _ cock _ .

Kriff, he  _ wants _ her. He’s holding her so softly, the movement more a suggestion than anything, but it’s enough.

Rey follows as he’s leading, rocking her hips and grinding against him. Like everything about him,  _ it _ seems monstrously huge. Vulgar.

And her cunt’s needy pulsing refuses to be denied. She’s slick for him, the sensations alien and overwhelming in a body that suddenly feels hollow.

Self-loathing shadows her mind, and she freezes against the smoldering mountain of a man. “I’m supposed to be here for the Resistance … for Skywalker…”

“ _ I’m _ a Skywalker,” he rasps quietly. “Be here with me.”

The confidence in his eyes is so compelling that she sinks back against him, finding her way back to his lips as his hand stirs her thigh. It’s like he’s urging her to feel him — and primal instincts surface from the dark part of herself that she never dares touch when she’s awake.

Ben’s hips dig into the crux of her as she moves against him. The cotton hammock of her panties wedges between her drenched folds, snagging against the nub of nerves at her apex — and she cries out, knotting her fingers in his thick, soft, hair and crushing his lips in a brutal kiss.


	3. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your cries have been heard, my smutlings, and I'm pleased to bring you more of this fluffy tale!
> 
> You can find the epic multifandom artist Lucia/LP Artworks on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LP_artworks), [Fiverr](https://www.fiverr.com/lp_artworks), and [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts). She's fantastic to work with on commissions, so please check out her other stuff 💞
> 
> I recently dropped a story on anon, so if you're an A/B/O fan, [(Don’t) Leave the Porch Light On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540502) may be up your alley - but mind the tags!! It is a _very_ different work than this one 🥵
> 
> On with the flut!
> 
>   
> 

She’s like living fire, flickering against his flushed skin and calling to him in every movement, stirring him awake.

How the hell did this happen? He only meant to kiss her, but then… 

_ Then _ —

If Rey can tell he’s still shaking she makes no sign of it. She’s too lost in him. 

_ Him _ . The person she’s screamed at, tried to kill, left bleeding and alone in a snowy hell. Someone she’s never looked at with anything but loathing … and now she’s kissing every inch of his face, her nimble fingers holding him still like a cat showering adoration on its mate.

Gods, he’s glad he didn’t cut his hair.

“Ben,” she groans as he guides her inner thigh along his stiffened prick. 

Has he  _ ever _ been this hard? His boxer briefs are strained tight, and the taut fabric isn’t helping any. Every time she shoves herself against him and that supernova of warmth between her legs nears his cockhead, he thinks of— of—

Rey’s conscious. Awake. She knows what she wants, his own astonishment be damned.

No wonder she’s always attacked him so violently.

No wonder he’s always responded in kind.

He’d thought it was just a biological response when he had her restrained, manacled to the interrogation table. That he was simply awash with power. It’s ludicrously easy to look back and see how thoroughly he’d been lying to himself. 

She’d been disgusted by him then — but as much as she hates Kylo Ren, she hungers for Ben Solo.

He hitches her closer against him, shifting her hips just enough. She rocks against him, and even through her leggings and his boxers he feels her  _ there _ , his dull terminus pressing into her and making her squeak with pleasure.

“Kriff,” she whimpers as he finds her.

Her scattered thoughts flutter through the bond like butterflies, and he sighs with rapture as he holds her there and she squirms pleasantly. They’re both thinking the same thing — only she’s brave enough to voice it.

“This is what it could be like.” Rey presses her cheek to his so fiercely that her cheekbone will probably leave a mark. He hopes it does. He wants to see evidence of her spelled out on his skin. “Ben, I can’t do this with anyone but you. I don’t  _ want _ to. Ever.”

She doesn’t even move, but he can feel it again. The aching loneliness. The craving to be touched; even if she didn’t know what it was, the awareness that something vital was missing.

And then finding it. Finding  _ him _ , now, like this, she knows what she’s been without.

How could he have been missing the same thing?

Beads of sweat taunt him, trickling down his neck. He hisses as she bends down to lick them from his skin one by one, her tongue velvet-soft and haunting. Her weight shifts to her haunches and then she’s undulating against his body again as he tightens his arm around her slender waist.

“I want you, Ben Solo,” Rey whispers into him.

_ Kriff _ . This isn’t some noble plea to Turn. 

She wants him. Not for the Light, but for herself.

For a heartbreaking moment the scavenger’s gone, and she grunts softly — but then her sweet weight is pressing into him again, covering him like sunshine as she settles herself squarely atop his body.

He sneaks a hand between them to reposition himself in his boxers, and she’s on him perfectly, aligning that soft, soaked patch in her leggings with his hardened suffering. She twines her arms about his neck and sinks into him with a groan, and she feels so delicate — but her frame is like iron as he crushes her to his chest.

He buries his face in her hair, just holding her as he pulls her topknot loose. She’s soft and sweet and ruthless, and as he pushes the tumble of nut-brown waves out of her face she’s already forcing his face back down to hers and kissing him again.

Rey sucks his lower lip, grinding her hips down against him as he flexes to meet her. She’s riding him like she’s ready to fuck him, the  _ mmph mmph mmph _ of her muted moans reverberating through his jaw as she languidly drags herself along his swollen phallus.

The sensations are blinding, and his fingers twitch against her ribs as she uses him, her lithe body striving toward oblivion.

Inexplicably she slows, and he throbs with thwarted lust. He can hear her teeth gritting as she clenches her jaw, forcing her hips up and away from him.

“What did I—?” he begins.

She shakes her head, her movements stuttering as she shoves the rapture back like his bedding, slipping back into the crook of his arm. This time she keeps her leg thrown over both of his — and he catches her knee again, holding her against him so she can’t retreat altogether.

Her eyes are hectic with need as she gazes up at him. “I want to— to feel you.”

“You were just—”

“Not like that.” She’s bashful and ravenous all at once, cheeks patched with blush from the force of it. “ _ Really _ feel you. With my own body. My skin against yours.”

His galloping heartbeat staggers as she stares at him.

He’s already wearing barely anything while she’s practically a nun in comparison. He tries to protest but his throat is too tight, and the sound strangles his chest as a wordless groan.

It’s risky to let her go, but he releases her leg long enough to hook his index finger under the band of fabric encircling her ribs.

“Oh.” The word slides out of her as she glances down, following the movement. But she isn’t revulsed by his primitive request — in fact, a shy grin tugs at her lips, now stained berry-red from the enthusiastic way she’s been kissing him. “I suppose that’s fair.”

She doesn’t move her leg from where it’s strewn across his. Just props herself up on her elbow, grunting quietly as she contorts herself, tugging the band of fabric up over her head in a practiced movement.

All he sees at first is her hair tumbling over his chest in a tumult, but her skin is fiery against him, no longer broken by the equator of tight-bound cloth.

He gulps air like he’s drowning as she flips her hair back and she’s no longer modest but naked from the waist up, like him. But where he’s flat and hard, she’s soft and forgiving.

He’s a soldier, no stranger to snippets of ribald conversations. Breasts are just a body part he doesn’t have, and therefore doesn’t have to worry about; the mystique surrounding them has consequently held no allure.

But  _ holy kriff _ , Rey’s tits make him an instant believer. They’re perfect. Luminous, even, like the rest of her — and for the first time since he awoke to find her here with him, he’s utterly dumbstruck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of this fluffy smut is on the way tomorrow - thanks so much for checking this story out!


	4. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Rey's favorite dream EVER.
> 
> Ben Solo is all hers. But even for a dream boi, he might have some desires of his own... 🔥😈🔥
> 
> Check out more of Lucia's phenomenal artwork (including the most soothing timelapses EVER) [here!](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts)

Ben’s suddenly rigid beside her, his whole body seized in a rictus sometime between him looping a finger under her braband and Rey actually letting the thing fall beside the pillow.

Worry swirls through her, tempering her need as she peers at him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m—” The lump in his throat bobs as he swallows hard. His gaze shifts down to her lips for a fraction of a moment before flicking up again. “Yeah, I’m—”

His eyes are luminous in the light from the banked fire — and he flinches again, _almost_ glancing down only to stare at her even more intensely, like he’s forcing himself not to look.

_Oh_. Of course. 

What Kylo Ren would unthinkingly take, Ben Solo doesn’t so much as _look_ at without explicit permission.

His other hand has sunk back into the shadows beyond the far side of his body, but she finds his shaking fingers amid the darkness and draws them to her. He hesitates as she pulls him close, but as soon as she lays his hand on her breast he clings to her soft skin like a magnet.

Rey finds his face. He’s so much older than she is, but right now he looks boyish. Practically overcome as he tentatively cradles her, touching her in a way no one else ever has.

He tears his awed gaze away from her caged breast, glancing back up at her in that half-lost way.

“That’s right,” she croons, letting her own hand fall away.

His fingers tighten on her, and he thumbs her diamond-hard nipple. She never expected this sort of thing to feel particularly special — in the years since she filled out, they’ve done nothing except get in her way — but the way he’s caressing her, his fingers skimming over her skin and tracing incomprehensible patterns on places she’s never let another person see…

A whimper works its way up through her throat, escaping before she can bite it back.

The sound makes him throb against her leg, and his dark eyes flare as his gaze locks with hers once more. 

“Rey…”

Whatever he’s going to say is lost as she flings her arms around his neck and presses her mouth to his. His grip on her tightens, and he rolls the roseate bud, tweaking it as she pushes her hips into him. 

Rey rubs her inner thigh along the throbbing lump in his boxers as she parts his lips with her tongue. She already misses the feeling of his dull terminus finding her slit, as though he’s going to transgress within her — but it’s more than her own ecstasy that she’s after.

Surely the dream will break soon, sending her hurtling back to waking empty and ashamed — but he’s still here with her, his muscular frame vital and real.

Perhaps the Force is merciful after all.

His grip on Rey turns steely as she palms his abdomen and slips lower, until her fingertips dance along the line of his waistband. She doesn’t even wait to playact this time; if her mind is going to show her something as perfect as a nearly-naked Ben Solo, there’s no point in taking it slow.

She shoves her hand under the wide elastic band, and then he’s hot and thick and throbbing in her hand. He hisses as she catches him, exploring him with her fingertips as they stare at each other.

Like everything about him, his cock feels huge; there’s so much to discover, and she revels in every new ridge and curve. He’s as firm as steel but smooth and feverish against her palm — and his breathing turns ragged as she reaches the tip of him. 

“You like that?” she asks, delighted to see him at her mercy.

His lips barely move, but his eyes burn like braziers as she strokes his length. “Yeah. I like that.”

It’s breathtaking, but she can’t see him like this. And she _needs_ to see him. To have the memory of how Ben Solo might look in her arms is he was _really_ hers.

“Pull them down for me,” she orders breathlessly, nodding to his boxers.

To her shock, he shakes his head.

“Why not?”

His eyes flash like Kylo Ren’s, but it’s only an echo of power. “Not unless you do, too.”

Rey glances over at the hut’s flap, straining to hear through the crash of sea against stone. It’s night, certainly no one’s going to disturb her. Not the cantankerous old man. Nor Chewie — and certainly not the island’s jabbering nuns. They don’t exist here in her dream.

Glowing lines trace through the hearth, but the darkness is friendly to her own bashful comfort.

She _could._

Her quim clenches, defying her worst fears as he gazes into her very center and she gazes back. “You first.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says quietly, and a frisson of longing ripples along her spine.

Ben gives her breast a final, lingering squeeze before tracing his way down to the flare of her hip.

“ _Solo_ ,” she warns as he touches the band of her leggings, and he chuckles, caught.

“Fine.”

He withdraws and digs his fingers under his own waistband, shoving the black fabric halfway down his muscular thighs. It snags on the spire of his erection, and he bucks his hips, grunting as he frees himself.

Rey moans as she sees him for the first time, veins pulsing greedily in his thick member as she stares. A carpet of dark curls covers the generous swell at the intersection of his thighs, and his phallus rises out of it, lifting and falling against his navel every time he throbs.

He rolls onto his side next to Rey, and even lying down he looms over her. Her leg is still hooked over both of his, and the way she’s open to him, his naked, roused cock nudging into her lower belly, is too much.

“No,” he mumbles, but she takes him in her hand, more firmly now that she’s getting used to seeing him completely vulnerable like this. 

Her fingers don’t wrap around him entirely, but she runs them up and down him in slow strokes. Even though he’s protesting, the words dissolving into chaotic murmurs, flexing his hips in mindless union with her rhythm.

“That’s it,” she coos as he fucks her hands — but the sound tightens to a shriek as he abruptly ducks his head, bringing his lips to her breast.

Ben shoves the soft mound up to meet his hungry mouth, claiming her nipple in his teeth. He alternately sucks and teases her as she works him, and she clenches her jaw to silence another moan.

“Let me fuck you,” he growls, the words thrilling through her body.

She shakes her head.

He pulls back, the first flash of alarm flitting through his umber gaze. “Did I—”

“I want to get you off like this,” Rey interrupts softly, the words tasting unfamiliar but welcome on her tongue.

_Get you off_. 

Yes, that’s what she wants to do to him.

She wants to see it for herself. The vulnerability in his eyes as she brings him to the brink. What he looks like as he spills.

And _he_ can feel it, too. Her wanting.

“Alright.” Ben straightens, cool sea air chilling her areola where he’s sucked her and left her wet. 

He releases her breast — and it must be the best dream she’s ever had, because even as she cradles his erect cock he grabs the waist of her leggings and yanks them down, forcing her splayed leg up and out of the prim fabric before she can draw breath to moan.


	5. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit on the shorter side today, but Ben's starting to get into this "dream" as much as the absolutely parched Rey 🤭🖤💦
> 
> I'm so excited to see more folks hopping aboard the [LP Artworks fandom train](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts)!! Fully expect more smexy Force bond art from that talented one, I tellya!!
> 
> Sidenote: You are probably going through a rough time rn because plague + righteous civil unrest + TERFs squirming out of the woodwork -- but give yourself a big ol' hug on me (I mean it, hug yo self!!), because in just hanging in there, you are doing a great job. There aren't medals for this kind of thing, so here's some smutty fluff instead 🖤💞
> 
> _N.B. Apparently I was unclear on my position: by "righteous civil unrest" I mean fuck police brutality and the slavery-derived institution that has enabled it. 400 years of oppression is far too fucking many. Don't @ me, because I will literally die on that hill if I have to. Not what I ever imagined I'd have to write here, but there you have it. (opinion is mine alone -Els)_
> 
>   
> 

Determination flickers in Rey’s doe-brown eyes like firelight as he drags the last stitch of fabric off her.

Her fingers tighten on his ravenous cock as he drapes her naked leg over his flank, gently hitching her hips close again. The pads of her fingers weave magic on his head, innocently taunting as he runs an exploratory palm along the top of her thigh.

Kriff, she’s so soft _everywhere_. He’s known she was strong from the moment they met, but she’s so pliant, melting into him. One of his arms is trapped beneath her body, but it’s perfect; it’s only a few handspans’ journey from the small of her back to her hindquarters, every inch he traverses satin-smooth and ready. 

He wishes he could see the generous curve of her ass, but it’s enough to palm her, spiderwebbing his fingers across her cheek and squeezing until her hips tremble.

Rey’s practically sitting on his hand, and he tightens, keeping her from flinching away as he stares down at the soft mound of her pubis. Her close-cropped thatch is dark, hardly veiling her form — and she clutches at him, gasping as his other hand reaches the junction of her thighs and keeps moving. 

Without her clothes she’s still the vibrant little scavenger from the forest, but she’s more, too. Pretty. Perfect. Her sweet form in his arms like a living wildflower. Wanton — but only for him.

For Ben Solo.

“No,” she mewls, but the bond flares with longing, and he lets his fingers stray lower still.

He can already smell her ripe cunt, but the heady scent grows stronger as he pries her open, running his fingers along her sopping aperture.

She can’t help herself. All he has to do is flick his wrist, nudging her hips forward from behind, and she rides his palm, her slick spilling out to coat his fingers as he parts her in a silken wave.

“So wet,” he groans.

Rey nods, her eyes glazed with bliss. Her movements grow sharper as he thumbs the bud of her clit and slips his first two fingers along her folds — and it’s that heady _wanting_ in her eyes as she stares down at him that makes him yearn for her.

Precum beads at his slit, and she thumbs it away, bringing the stained digit to her mouth to suck.

“You taste sweet,” she manages around her thumb — and as she moves back to him, the soaked pad of her thumb swirls around the top of his head in a cajoling ballet. “ _Are_ you sweet, Ben?”

He groans desperately, but she’s merciless, enticing him ever closer to oblivion.

Rey’s so drenched for him that his fingers sink into her without protest, her soft walls yielding as he thrusts deeper. She cries out softly at the intrusion, and one of her hands moves to cradle his balls, cupping him and pumping his shaft all at once.

Ecstatic shivers lance through him. How can she know how to do this, how to make him feel—?

The bridge between their minds. It’s so natural that he’d almost forgotten.

His homicidal uncle would finally be proud because he _listens_ through the Force, finding her innermost desires and laying them bare before his hungry mind as he caresses her.

Ah … yes.

_Yes_.

That much he can do.


	6. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end of this sordid adventure - but some of the best parts are yet to come! 😘🥵🖤
> 
> It is making my heart absolutely _burst_ with happiness to see so many people joining me in stanning [LP Artworks!](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts) Did you know she has more than 8,000 followers on [Instagram?](https://www.instagram.com/lp_artworks/) The first Reylo pic she has up on there... _sigh_ 😍🥰
> 
> Please leave me/us comments if you're liking this story - we had so much fun breaking it together, and we're grateful to everyone for reading!!
> 
> Other stuff!  
> \+ Want to read more awesome fic - but original, and from writers I personally adore? Hit up [Lemon and Lime Fic!](https://lemonlimefic.com/) 🍋💚  
> \+ Got a few minutes to spare? [The Resistance needs you!](https://linktr.ee/blacklivesmatter)
> 
>   
> 

Rey’s nearly out of her mind with rapture as Ben drives his fingers into her harder. Every time she rocks her hips back his hand is there at her arse cheek, pushing her forward to transfix her on his waiting hand once more.

She clutches desperately at his raw, raging phallus, but she’s fallen off the rhythm, distracted as she is by his ministrations, they’re so… so…

… _good_.

Rey spares her hand from his hungry sex to give herself a long, sloppy lick. Wetness trickles from the heel of her palm to her fingertips in a dripping stripe, and she smears it along his cock until he’s glistening and groaning.

“Oh _fuck_ , sweetheart,” he rumbles, thrusting into her eager hands as he drives his fingers into her hollow.

“More,” she groans, and it pinches as he hooks another digit into her. It’s still probably not as thick as _he_ is but it’s enough to fill her, rolling her between his fingers and his waiting palm as his thumb relentlessly works her clit.

Rey could almost believe Ben’s taking her properly as her eyelids grow heavy. Their panting breaths intermingle, bodies rocking together as the glorious torment quickens — and she yelps as he withdraws from her. But it’s only to smear her own essence on his shivering length, his fingers scudding over hers and leaving them slick.

“ _There_ ,” he rasps as she retakes him, and he drives his cock into her ready hands, urging into her.

Maybe he’s reading her mind again as he nudges her back on the thin mattress, kneeling over one of her legs and bracing himself up with a branch-thick arm corded with muscle. His other hand is still at her quim, and his fingers surge into her even as he bucks his hips, shoving his roused sex into her waiting hands.

“Please let me have you,” he begs, the words hoarse with desperation.

She shakes her head — and secret delight throbs in her as Ben growls, fucking her harder with his fingers to vent his frustration.

Would Master Skywalker know she’d yielded to her base impulses if she fully opened herself to his long-lost nephew, even in a dream? As much as she wants to feel Ben surging inside her she can’t risk it. His strong, sure fingers are enough for tonight. If the vergence-borne dream even lasts that long.

Maybe if she doesn’t risk anything they can bring each other past the brink and she can wake satisfied instead of lost, lost, lost…

Ben thrusts into her grip harder, galvanized by some inner urgency. He’s too big, beautifully so — and she pulls him into the flat of her belly, their fingers fumbling over each other as he scoops more of her nectar out of her hollow and rubs it along himself.

He clenches his teeth as he drenches his own head once again, threading his larger fingers between hers before falling away.

He slips against her skin easily now, the entirety of him digging into the sensitive vale of muscles between her hips. His sopping fingers skim her inner thigh and she sighs as he retakes her, his fingers as thick and unrelenting inside her as his erection glides along her belly.

She can’t escape the rapture he’s provoking inside her. She doesn’t want to. It’s gathering within her like the storms that ravage the stone island, casting jagged, blinding bolts down from the thundering vault to rage in the sea.

Rey can’t open her eyes through the tempest, but she can feel him close, her breath mingling with his.

Miraculously she manages to find him, but they’re too far gone to even kiss him properly. Their lips and tongues pluck at each other in a desperate, mindless frenzy, and she can taste the guttural moan as it shudders through him.

It’s too much. His body is so warm as he traps her down against the mattress, safe despite the way he’s ravishing her with his fingers. He’s inescapable, his cock deliciously cruel between her caged fingers and her sensitive skin. His hand draws the beautiful agony tighter in her belly, until it’s a spiraling, golden snake coiling deep within her, cinching tighter and threatening to shatter.

“ _Ben_ ,” she begs into his stumbling lips, but it’s already too late.

The gilded lightning glows blindingly bright — and then Rey’s beyond the verge, rapture claiming her as he coaxes the tectonic orgasm from her body.


	7. Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🖤🖤🖤  
> Happy weekend (or whenever you read this) loves! Whether you're up or you're down right now, have a hug on me. 💞
> 
> **Also** , I have been super remiss in not thanking my dear pal & beta reader for this story, [Michelle](https://twitter.com/VeazieMichelle)!! Go follow her on Twitter, because her upcoming work is seriously fantastic, and you're not going to want to miss out!
> 
> I will continue to shamelessly huck links to [Lucia's epic artwork](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts), too, because she's bonkers talented! Seriously, our community is rich with love 💗
> 
> Ok. Deep breath. Away we go!
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤
> 
>   
> 

Krff.  _ Kriff _ , he’s so close to the edge.

Rey’s writhing beneath him, her moans punctuated at the end by little whines that make electricity crackle through his skin.

Her hips still undulate against him in lapping waves, but soon her movements grow staccato, fingers seizing around his girth. She caresses him fervidly, clutching him to her as she circles his cockhead with her thumb.

She’s so kriffing wet that her body welcomes his advances, soft and soaking yet still tight around him. Tightening, in fact — her channel’s clenching and releasing in convulsive pulses, gripping him and relenting only for a moment before choking his fingers again.

He wants to kiss her, but his body’s claiming his mind as primal impulses assert themselves. The sensations are so intense that he can’t even think through them enough to remember how.

Her softness is all he can feel. The warmth of her body, the welcoming scent of her hair, the way she’s meeting his advances with her hips like she really, truly  _ wants _ him...

“Ben,” she mumbles into him, her breath hitching as she forces herself down on his hand even harder.

There’s so much wiry strength in Rey that he has to give her his weight as she spasms — and she groans unreservedly as he works her with a final few strokes. Her need flows throws the bond, telling him everything he needs to know to make an ecstatic supernova explode through her body.

Her cheekbone digs into his as she arches her spine, ceding to the orgasm, and her fingers clutch at his wrist.

_ No _ . He doesn’t want to let her go. Not after that.

She pushes insistently and he relents, but just as quickly her hand is gone again.

He’s so distracted and relieved to push into her once more that the sudden cloudburst rush of her slick fingers against his cockhead makes him moan. It’s more of her essence, that’s what she’d wanted — and she cradles him in her snug, wet embrace.

Finally he remembers how to kiss her. Not entirely, but enough to press his trembling lips to the corner of hers as she tries to shake her head. “Ben, I can’t — not again—”

She  _ can _ though. Unfairness flickers through her mind, but it’s not for herself, it’s for him; she’s squirming with the anticipation of bringing him to completion, ashamed of him thinking her too hungry.

But he loves her hunger. He needs it.

No one’s ever wanted him this much before.

It isn’t long until Rey's gasping again, close to the wordless place. He is, too, tethered to her bliss as he fucks against her, surrounded by her so completely that he may as well be losing himself to her.

He tries to warn her. “Rey, I’m—”

“Come, sweetheart. I want you to.”

Her soft rasp is enough to bring him to the brink. His seed gathers in a fiery rush and then he’s spilling on the flat plane of her belly, gasping as a lake of creamy fluid sullies her burnished skin.

She’s pulsing around his fingers again a few thrusts later, and her sticky fingers catch him, slowing him.

“Stop… Ben— I’m—” Rey breaks off with a mew, her eyes widening as she finds his spend staining her stomach. “ _ Oh _ .”

“I’m sorry.” His cheeks are already flushed from his fiercely beating heart, and mortification makes him try to draw back — but she moves with him, sitting up as he tries to pull away.

“No, it’s alright!”

“I’ve never—”

“Neither have I,” she says quickly, her breathless words stumbling over his.

Their gazes lock — and her soft brown eyes are brimming with so much hope that the iron wall he’s been building around his heart all these years cracks.

The Force betrays him; her face closes with suspicion.

“Ren!”

He yanks the sheet up around his waist just in time. Hux is through the door into his quarters before he even hears the hiss of the doors. 

The other man’s ginger brows glint under the stern lighting as they knit in a smug frown. “Am I … disturbing you?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Kylo snarls, not even giving a kriff if the other man thinks he was jerking it.

But even as Snoke’s toady turns on his heel and scurries out of his quarters, he knows it’s too late.

Where she was, the link is now aching with the sudden loss of her, his mind as empty as his bed — and he sinks back on his haunches to brood over the scavenger in an entirely new and wretched way.


	8. Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🖤🖤🖤
> 
> So here we are. The final stone in the path.
> 
> Technically this story is more or less canonverse, because it’s what happened in the silences, the moments the sanitized SW lens wouldn’t ever dare see. The moments where Rey and Ben experience human complexity and sexuality as they psychologically come of age together.
> 
> I’m planning another short story like this as a bridge between TLJ and my Episode IX reboot [The Fall of Skywalker](https://twitter.com/ElegyGoldsmith/status/1260306455200182274), but in the meantime I’ve actually been publishing rather a lot lately - check my other stories out [here!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElegyGoldsmith)
> 
> Speaking of prolific, if you haven’t checked out more art by the amazing Lucia, doing it now!! Find her on [Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts) for more commissions, time-lapses, & some upcoming surprises related to this story of ours.
> 
> Many thanks to [Michelle](https://twitter.com/VeazieMichelle) for beta reading this - I can’t wait to read her forthcoming fic!! 
> 
> One last time (for now), back to the Force bond, and Ben, and Rey…
> 
> 🖤🖤🖤
> 
>   
> 

Ben’s so close to her but strangely shy now, drawing away from her like she’s going to recoil from him in disgust for coming on her.

She’s about to throw his arms around his neck again, despoiled as she is or not — but that look in his eyes stops her, a wall flickering in his mind. Neither of them moves but a jolt runs through her body as though she’s been shoved.

It can’t be.

_Ren!_

The word echoes through his mind, but she hears it as clearly as though it’s reverberated off the hut’s stone walls. Someone’s calling him.

His dark eyes close like an eclipse, shuttering in a familiar rage as he turns away.

Not Ben. 

_Ren_.

Shock makes the bridge between them crumble, and suddenly she’s alone in her bed in the squat hut, rain beginning to patter on the age-old roof.

Ahch-To. 

She’s here, and awake. It wasn’t a dream.

His slick still coats Rey’s belly, and she scours it away with a corner of the coarse-woven fabric before it reaches her thatch. Who knows if _that_ — if she could—

She braces against the tide of self-recriminations, but they stir only vaguely in her mind, muttering like shadows. She doesn’t hate herself.

It’s a surprise. She blinks, still waiting … but she’s still herself. Still Rey, flung across the universe like a cast stone.

Whoever it was that was that she awoke to — for she must’ve been sleeping; her tunic is folded neatly at the head of the bed, just as she left it — might’ve answered to the name Kylo Ren, but it was with anger. Fear.

When she called him Ben, he was someone else entirely. Not the obsidian shell of a man that he’s drawn up around himself, the thing that had seemed so impervious when he had her at his mercy in that interrogation chamber.

Yet even then she’d felt that about him first, before the anger. The loneliness that filled his mind in a silent scream of grief, the one that matched her own.

Only then had the cry within her finally begun to quiet. When she realized she wasn’t, _couldn’t_ be alone anymore. Because wherever she went in the galaxy, there was someone else who understood.

Ben.

_That_ was whose arms had been around her, holding her close as their wild hearts beat a tattoo of longing. The only man in the universe who she could ever be with like _that_ … and he was still in there. Lost to Kylo Ren, but not completely gone.

If he’d been with her by taking a step toward Light, maybe she could find him by inching toward Dark. Not much, just enough to find balance together.

Even as the thought seeds itself in her mind she feels it calling — the place beneath the island that Master Luke is so afraid to go.

If she wants to find Ben Solo, first she must find herself.

Rey’s jaw clenches, her spine straightening as she swings her legs over the side of the bed. The falling rain whispers against the roof, calling to her as the sea thunders against the cliffs, each muted boom reverberating through the jagged isle.

Chewie, the nuns, and the old man are asleep. Even the porgs are roosting.

It’s the perfect time. Go now or go never.

Only minutes later she’s dressed and ready — as ready as she’ll ever be. Still the voice of terror pleads with her to return to her borrowed bed, forget this whole foolhardy notion, and go back to sleep … but the memory of his embrace is what steels her against the night’s damp chill. 

His warm hazel eyes, calling to her from across star systems, begging her to rescue him, too.

The Dark beneath the stony ground calls to the darkness inside her — and Rey of Jakku shoulders the door flap aside, striding off into the misty night to find her destiny.

**Author's Note:**

> Places to find Lucia:  
> \+ [Chat with her on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/LP_artworks)  
> \+ [Check out her commissions!](https://www.fiverr.com/lp_artworks)  
> \+ [Hit up her Patreon!](https://www.patreon.com/lpartworks/posts)
> 
> Places to find Elegy:  
> \+ [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/ElegyGoldsmith)  
> \+ [Find my original fic in The Reading Room!](https://www.elegygoldsmith.com/the-reading-room)
> 
> Places to find Michelle:  
> \+ [Follow her on Twitter to stay in the loop about her upcoming fic!](https://twitter.com/VeazieMichelle)


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